


The Story of Us

by cacticonvo



Series: Looks a lot like a tragedy now [1]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Angry Jaskier | Dandelion, Angry Kissing, Angst, Bisexual Disaster Jaskier | Dandelion, Curses, Depressed Jaskier | Dandelion, Emotionally Constipated Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Post-Episode 6, Reconciliation, Roach Ships It (The Witcher), Roach is So Done (The Witcher), Soft Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:48:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23808670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cacticonvo/pseuds/cacticonvo
Summary: And then it happened.Jaskier looked up and they locked eyes.In an instant the world paused. Looking into Jaskier’s eyes was a slap to the face. Jaskier was never very good at hiding how he felt, always wore his emotions on his sleeve for everyone to see. Geralt could see it all, the raw hurt, anger, sadness and a deep resignation that was painful to look at. But there was something else, buried under all of the layers of hurt.Hope.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~2 Months after the fight on the mountain, Geralt runs into Jaskier in a tavern. The tensions between them are high as Geralt notices that something dark has been tracing Jaskier.Jaskier is in danger.The two of them try to work past their feelings to save Jaskier before its too late
Relationships: Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon & Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion & Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Series: Looks a lot like a tragedy now [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1719583
Comments: 27
Kudos: 185





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my first geraskier fic!! get ready for some emotionally constipated boys

It wasn’t Geralt’s fault. That’s what Geralt had to tell himself, if he could pretend it wasn’t his fault then it would hurt less. But his incessant denial didn’t fill the absence that the Bard had left behind, taking a part of Geralt’s joy in his wake. 

Not that Geralt cared, he never wanted the company in the first place so why should he care now it’s gone? It wasn’t as if Geralt ever actually _enjoyed_ having Jaskier around, his music was mediocre at best and he was _annoying_ , but Geralt couldn’t help but feel as if he chased off the only chance of happiness he had. 

He found himself being affected by Jaskier’s departure in ways he hadn’t expected; there was a constant cold ache in his chest that reminded him over and over how much he actually was affected by the human. He had dreams every night of blue eyes, flowers and music, each one sending him gasping for breath as he waked. It was shameful, Witchers weren’t supposed to get attached, weren’t supposed to have feelings. 

A deep, guttural growl pulled Geralt from his thoughts and back to the present, where the Kikimore Queen in front of him prepared to strike. He swore and dived out of the way, cursing at himself for getting distracted _again._

That was another symptom of losing Jaskier, he was distracted and careless. Each battle ended worse than the last, Geralt’s injuries got worse every time as he barely took the time to try and heal himself. Geralt had never understood Jaskier’s desire to tend to Geralt’s wounds; Witchers didn’t really need to take time to heal, unless the injuries were severe, but now Geralt missed the soft intimate touches Jaskier gave and the worried look in his eyes at every scratch and bruise. 

With a shout, Geralt leapt and, in one clean swipe, decapitated the Kikimora. It’s head crashed to the ground, the landing making a loud, wet slap in the swampy mud. The body collapsed shortly after, it’s legs getting crushed beneath the weight of it’s limp body. 

Grunting in satisfaction, Geralt hoisted the bloodied head over his shoulder before trudging back to where Roach was waiting for him. As Geralt approached Roach she snorted and turned her head away, causing Geralt to roll his eyes. Recently the mare had been in a huff with Geralt, no doubt annoyed at Geralt’s decision to drive Jaskier away. 

“Quiet or I’ll leave you here.” Geralt grumbled, looking the horse dead in the eye. She only huffed in his face and Geralt chuckled. At least he still had Roach, despite the fact she was angry at him. 

After securely attaching the Kikimore’s head to Roach’s saddle, Geralt swung himself onto Roach and instinctively she started to move in the direction they needed to go. This Roach was smart and emotive, Jaskier helped pick her out (which is probably why she was so attached to the musical idiot). It was a refreshing change to the emotionless Roaches he had before.

Roach’s hooves clicked against the gravel of the path, a sonnance that allowed Geralt to drift back to his thoughts, which was where he spent most of his time now. 

It wasn’t like he had _wanted_ to hurt Jaskier, he was just angry at everything. And Jaskier was there to receive it. Geralt hadn’t meant what he said, all those horrible things, and yet he had still said them.

_“And yet, here we are.”_

There was always something different about Jaskier; instead of recoiling in fear at the sight of Geralt, he approached with open arms and curious eyes. Jaskier never smelt of fear, even when he was caught in the middle of dangerous fights, he was never scared. And Geralt allowed himself to relax in his company, he got comfortable with Jaskier. He never should have let that happen. 

Yennefer and Geralt’s relationship was like fire, all-consuming and dangerous. Jaskier was like sunrise, bringing light into the darkness, something you could always count on. At the time Geralt didn’t know what that meant, and he still refused to accept what Jaskier really was to him. 

Geralt shook his head to clear the thoughts plaguing his mind and tried to focus on his destination. A small town had offered him a large prize for the head of the Kikimore queen. It was a simple town, with a few taverns and a few shops but not large enough to be memorable. 

Occasionally, Geralt found himself humming softly, trying to fill the silence with music. Silence used to comfort him, it meant there was no fight, no danger, but now it was suffocating. The silence left in the place of Jaskier was the loudest silence Geralt had ever experienced. 

It didn’t take long for Geralt to arrive at the town, clearly Roach was sick of his aimless sulking. As he jumped down from the horse, unhooking the rotting monster’s head, he got a few looks, wary looks. The kind of looks he only gets when Jaskier isn’t around. Apparently people find it charming if you travel with the human embodiment of sunshine. 

His boots squelched and his armour clanked as he strode towards the tavern he was staying in. A quick breeze caught him freezing, his breath catching in his throat. The soft, subtle scent of rose, lavender and something sweet briefly passed through Geralt’s nose. Normally that kind of smell wouldn’t phase the Witcher at all, but this scent… he knew this scent. 

Walking substantially slower, Geralt pushed open the door of the tavern. As soon as he stepped foot into the tavern he could hear. Solemn, soft music, sung by a voice unforgettable to Geralt. But there was a deep hurt to the voice that was oh so foreign. 

A knot formed in Geralt’s chest that made it hard to breath as he rounded the corner and saw him. 

Jaskier. 

He stood on a small stage at the back of the tavern, half heartedly strumming his lute as he sang a song of loss and heartbreak. Each sullen note sent shocks of pain through Geralt. Jaskier looked different. To anyone who didn’t know him, he looked the same. Dressed head to toe in colourful silks, lute in his arms. But Geralt could see it. Could see how Jaskier was falling apart. There was a small tear on the shoulder of his doublet, his lute was slightly out of tune, and his eyes no longer held the devilish sparkle that made Jaskier _Jaskier._

Oh his eyes. The cornflower blue that haunted Geralt’s dreams was mere metres away. Geralt halted his steps, tempting fate as he stared at the Bard from the shadows. 

And then it happened. 

Jaskier looked up and they locked eyes. 

In an instant the world paused. Looking into Jaskier’s eyes was a slap to the face. Jaskier was never very good at hiding how he felt, always wore his emotions on his sleeve for everyone to see. Geralt could see it all, the raw hurt, anger, sadness and a deep resignation that was painful to look at. But there was something else, buried under all of the layers of hurt. 

Hope. 

There was a flicker of hope. 

Geralt looked around the room and saw his drawing attention. At the retraction of his endless stare, Jaskier’s music continued, his voice only minutely shakier than before. 

And that was it. The moment was broken. Geralt grunted and shoved his way to the bar before slamming down the Kikimore head on the bar and storming out, not even bothering to collect his coin. 

It was raining when Geralt stepped outside, a heavy, sheet rain. Because of _course_ it was. 

Geralt growled in displeasure and began to walk towards where Roach was tied. 

“Is that it then? Seriously?” Geralt stopped as soon as that familiar, broken voice called after him. He couldn’t find it in himself to turn around as he heard Jaskier step closer to him, the smell of rose and lavender making Geralt’s head spin. 

“You’re not even gonna talk to me? Not even going to acknowledge my existence?” Jaskier’s voice shook with an anger that Geralt had hoped he would never hear. “ _Melitele_. I don’t know why I even came out here.” 

The rage and hurt waving off Jaskier was so tangible Geralt could taste it, “Jaskier-” Geralt’s voice was almost unrecognisable. 

“Did you know I was here?” Geralt spun around to face Jaskier, his damp hair slapping him in the face. Jaskier had lost the anger from moments before, now he just looked miserable. As the rain slowly seeped through his clothes, he looked tired. Geralt had never seen Jaskier that _tired_. “Well?” 

“No.” Geralt answered, gruffly, “I was only here for the Kikimore contract.”

Jaskier scoffed and nodded, “Right… of course.” 

Geralt knew what he should say. _“I’m sorry.” “I never wanted to hurt you.” “I miss you.” “I need you.”_ But all he could get out was a grunt. 

To his surprise, Jaskier laughed. It was a weak laugh, wet and pathetic, but it was still a laugh. “Classic Geralt. Even in times like this you’re still as verbose as usual.” 

Geralt stepped closer, ignoring his gut telling him to walk away, “Jaskier, I-” Then he stopped, frowning. His pendant hummed violently and a dark, dank smell took over Geralt’s senses and suddenly, every nerve in his body was set on edge. Geralt placed a hand on his pendant, almost a subconscious attempt to calm the frantic humming. 

“Geralt?” Jaskier’s soft voice broke through Geralt’s panic and he looked down at the Bard, who was looking at him with such a kind concern that Geralt almost forgot the dark magic surrounding them, “What is it?”

“Magic. Dark magic. Here.” He spat out the words as his whole body tensed, alert to the danger, and he fought the urge to cover Jaskier’s slight body with his own. 

Jaskier ran a hand through his hair, a motion he often did when he stressed beyond belief (He didn’t like to mess his hair unless it was _absolutely_ necessary) and that’s when Geralt noticed it. A small, black charm hung from a simple band wrapped around Jaskier’s pale wrist. 

Geralt grabbed Jaskier’s wrist, startling the Bard, “What is this?” 

“Hey! It was a gift! I got a few towns back.” Jaskier called out in protest as Geralt attempted to remove it, “Careful! You’ll break it!” 

Despite Jaskier’s worries, Geralt failed to remove the trinket. It was stuck on Jaskier. He recognised the symbol on it. A criss-crossing of lines that was used to symbolise dark magic, most likely cursed to track Jaskier wherever he goes. “Who gave it to you? Tell me _now_ , Jaskier.” 

“Gods, Geralt I don’t remember! An avid fan? Why do you care so much?” Jaskier pouted, rubbing his wrist. Geralt would find it adorable if he wasn’t so on edge.

“Dammit, Jaskier. It’s a curse.” Geralt tried not to raise his voice but he couldn’t help it. How could Jaskier be so reckless?

“What? What do you mean?” The Bard looked up at him, his blue eyes swirling with confusion and fear. 

“We need to leave. Get your things.” Was all Geralt said before spinning around and walking towards Roach. 

“No! Gods, Geralt you’re so _thick!_ ” Geralt turned around again, “Fucking talk to me! You can’t just turn up after two months and expect me to follow you across the continent again!” Jaskier was shouting, properly shouting, all it did was fuel Geralt’s anger at the whole situation.

“Fine. You want to stay here and die? Be my guest, but if you want to live then don’t be a fucking idiot and come with me so I can save your ass from a situation you no doubt brought upon yourself!” He yelled back, fists clenched. 

Jaskier’s brow furrowed but he just nodded, “I’ll get my stuff.” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt and Jaskier try and fail to communicate, cuddling may or may not be involved

Jaskier was a hopeless romantic. It constantly got him in trouble. He always thrust his heart into the hands of whoever interested him most. It wasn’t any different with Geralt, at the start. At first it was just about the story, the adventure, but after a while Jaskier found himself beginning to want for more than the adventure. He knew it was a risk, but he bared his heart to Geralt. Not just the womanizer, eccentric side of himself but the curious, kind and fragile part that very few people knew about. 

Of course, we all know how _that_ turned out. It left Jaskier alone on a mountain, attempting to pick up the pieces of his broken heart. 

It had taken a while for him to really process that Geralt was gone. He was in a daze, shocked and confused, for a month before it really hit him. When it did hit him it was bad, a sadness that Jaskier had never experienced swarmed his mind. He couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, couldn’t play. Then came the anger, Jaskier never deserved to be treated the way Geralt treated him, it wasn’t his fault. 

The worst part of it all though, part of Jaskier was still hoping. Part of Jaskier expected Geralt to be around every corner, ready to travel with Jaskier again. 

Part of him didn’t need an apology, he just needed Geralt back. 

So when he saw Geralt in that tavern, he thought he was hallucinating. It was only when he saw him leaving that two months of repressed emotions finally surfaced. 

The last thing he expected was to find out he’d been _cursed_. The last thing he expected was to hear Geralt demanding that they leave immediately. 

It didn’t take him long to gather his things, the innkeep had gathered his things up as soon as he saw Jaskier chase after the Witcher. 

Geralt was waiting with Roach, Jaskier would’ve been elated to see her if it weren’t for the circumstances. The rain had drenched them both through and Jaskier would be lying if he said he didn’t like the view of a damp, muscular Geralt. 

“Where are we going?” Jaskier shouted over the sound of the pouring rain as Geralt attached his things to Roach’s already full pack. 

The Witcher helped Jaskier climb onto the mare, almost causing Jaskier to swoon with the tight press of his hands to the Bard’s hips, “Yennefer.” Geralt replied, shortly. 

Jaskier snorted, “Pretty sure she doesn’t want to see you.” He snarked, trying to ignore the feeling of Geralt pressed against his back as he sat behind him. 

With a quick word of encouragement, Roach shot off. Jaskier had to shut his eyes to protect them from the rain.   
  


“I don’t care if she doesn’t, she helped you when you got cursed last time and she’ll do it again.” Geralt replied after a few moments of silence.

Ah yes, the djinn. If it weren’t for that fucking djinn then Geralt and Yennefer never would have met and Jaskier would never have had to watch Geralt fall for someone else. 

It wasn’t that Jaskier didn’t like Yennefer, usually he would have been all over her (he has a thing for powerful people), but she was the witch that stole Geralt’s heart and of course, _of course_ , it killed Jaskier to be around her. 

Jaskier had actually encountered Yennefer not long after That Day. She looked as miserable as he felt but she had offered a small smile when she saw him. They had talked, talked about Geralt and the things he had said. 

_“Geralt has a tendency to push away the things that he wants but tie down the things he thinks he should have.”_

_“I don’t know what you mean by that.”_

_“I mean, Jaskier, look at which one of us he pushed away and which one he literally cursed to always be with him.”_

Yennefer’s words often ran through Jaskier’s mind, he still didn’t really understand what she meant by them. 

A shiver ran down his whole body as the wind and the rain began to overtake the adrenaline that had kept him from sensing the cold. It had been a few hours since they left the town and the sun had fully set, the whole sky dark and threatening. 

The single shiver turned into two, then three and then before he knew it his whole body was shaking violently in the cold. He tried to stifle his teeth chattering but Geralt still noticed. 

“You’re shivering.” Jaskier rolled his eyes at Geralt’s bluntness, 

“Yes, I think you forget that not everyone has Witcher abilities to fight off the cold. And I didn’t bring a coat.” He replied, words stunted by his numb mouth. 

Geralt grunted and pulled Roach to a stop, “What are you-” Jaskier started but got cut off by Geralt removing his thick, leather overshirt and placing it around Jaskier’s shoulders. 

Jaskier felt his heart _melt_. The crash of him falling for Geralt again was almost audible. The leather was heavy and uncomfortable, but it was warm and smelt like Geralt. That heartbreaking smell of leather and sword oil. 

“We’re near a town.” Geralt grumbled in his ear. Jaskier just nodded, completely speechless. 

It was such a raw display of kindness that Jaskier had missed. It was moments like that that had caused Jaskier to fall for Geralt in the first place. When Geralt would offer him the last sip of water, when he would walk at a slower pace to allow Jaskier to rest. All subtle things that showed that he _did_ pay attention to Jaskier’s needs. 

Another half an hour passed with Jaskier still cold but content in Geralt’s overshirt. Soon he spotted the low burning lights that signalled a town. 

Jaskier sighed in relief, he was dying for a drink and a hot bath. “I hope the ale is good here.” Jaskier mumbled, causing Geralt to chuckle, lowly. The Bard beamed, he always loved being able to make Geralt laugh. He desperately craved that rare smile, the smile that sent Jaskier’s whole body into a flurry of emotions. 

As they arrived at the town, the rain began to slow but it was still too heavy for them to travel in and by this point, Jaskier was practically seizing with cold. 

Geralt slid off Roach before pulling Jaskier down as well, “Go and find somewhere to stay.” 

Jaskier nodded and walked in the direction of what looked like a large tavern, his cold hands clutching Geralt’s overshirt. 

He tentatively pushed open the door and revealed a mostly empty tavern. Standing at the bar was a young woman with a kind smile. 

“Oh dear, I guess you’ll be needing a room?” She asked, sympathetically. 

“Yes, please, and two mugs of your finest Ale.” Jaskier handed over a small bag of coins, enough to pay for the room and drinks. 

It didn’t cross Jaskier’s mind to ask for two rooms, he was so used to just getting one. Even when he was travelling with Geralt, they found it easier to share. So when Geralt walks in, his face like thunder, Jaskier finds himself doubting his choice. 

“I only got one room, I can get another if you like?” Jaskier states with a small voice. In response, Geralt stares at him with an unreadable expression. 

“It’s fine.” They collect their keys and drinks and head to their room. The only sound filling the halls is the wet dripping of their ruined clothes. 

Jaskier sighed, this was his last fine silk outfit. All the other ones got ruined by vomit and ale and Gods know what else. 

The room was nice, small but homey, lit by a few small candles. Without even thinking, Jaskier began to remove his wet clothing before a startled grunt caused him to halt his actions. Geralt had turned away, staring at a point on the floor to avoid looking at Jaskier. 

Doubt and shame began to crawl up his throat at the reminder that Geralt didn’t actually want Jaskier around. “I, um, I think I’m going to turn in now.” Geralt nodded, still not looking at jaskier. 

As Jaskier finished removing his clothes, he heard Geralt removing his own. He felt his cheeks flush and did everything he could to focus on getting into the bed without looking at the shirtless Witcher. Seeing Geralt without clothing would do nothing to help qualm Jaskier’s pining. 

Jaskier climbed into the small bed and blew out the candles near to him, squeezing his eyes shut as tight as he possibly could. This day had been a whirlwind. It had started with a hangover and the dark ache that Jaskier had been carrying the past two months, and now it was ending with him, almost naked and freezing, in the same room as the man who crushed his heart. 

It was only a few minutes before Jaskier’s shivering began again, his whole body trembling violently. His breathing was stuttered as he attempted to warm himself up. It wasn’t working very well. Geralt sighed from across the room before getting up and walking over to the bed. 

Jaskier felt the bed dip as Geralt climbed inside, “What are you doing?” He asked, rolling over to face him. 

“Warming you up, you’re too cold.” Without a warning, Geralt pulled Jaskier’s freezing body flush against his own warm one. Jaskier gasped at the contact, he couldn’t help but shuffle closer to the warmth. 

Geralt wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him closer, allowing Jaskier to bury his face in the Witcher’s neck. It was an intimate position that made Jaskier’s heart race, which no doubt the Witcher could sense. Geralt shushed him like a mother would shush their crying child, calm and soothing, as he began to stroke Jaskier’s hair slowly. 

Part of Jaskier was expecting to wake up and find this whole thing a cruel dream, but there he was, being _held_ by the man of his dreams. It didn’t take long for Jaskier to relax, his body going limp against Geralt’s. He began to drift off as the comfort of Geralt’s arms allowed Jaskier’s mind to quiet and calm. 

And if Jaskier shed a few as he fell asleep, neither of them mentioned it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after and Geralt sends for Yennefer.  
> Jaskier is bitter and Geralt is oblivious to his own emotions
> 
> also featuring the fastest delivery boy in all the land

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> slightly shorter chapter sorry!
> 
> also thank you so much for 500 hits!! I'm enjoying writing this so much and I hope you're enjoying reading it!!

Warmth was the first thing Geralt felt. Then it was the soft press of a body against his own. Soon after, the comforting smell of lavender and rose, for a second Geralt forgot the past two months and he moved to pull the sleeping Jaskier closer but then he remembered, and he also remembered that, as a Witcher, it would be a terrible idea to allow himself the comfort of Jaskier’s embrace. 

With a soft groan, Geralt removed the Bard’s arms from around his waist and slid out of the bed. He risked a glance back at Jaskier and the Witcher swore he felt his heart stop at the sight. 

Jaskier was tangled in the sheets, his bare legs and chest exposed where the sheets weren’t covering him. His brown hair was a mess with a few soft curls that Jaskier usually tried so hard to tame. The loveliest part was his face, a relaxed smile that was framed by light freckles. All was illuminated by beams of sunlight reaching in through the window as if to highlight the most beautiful person in the world. 

Geralt grunted again and forced himself to turn away, it was not the time to get distracted. 

Without looking back again, Geralt pulled on his clothes. They were mostly dry but the thin, dark linen shirt hung heavy around his shoulders. He wasn’t sure if it was the shirt that brought the heaviness, or the anger that Jaskier would bring when he woke. 

Jaskier had a right to be angry, but Geralt didn’t know how to apologise. At Kaer Morhen Geralt and his brothers had been taught to not feel their emotions. What would be the point of them getting attached to someone if they’re just going to get eaten by a monster? And that’s if they don’t turn away in disgust first anyway.

As to not wake the Bard, Geralt quietly slipped out of the room and down into the tavern below. He approached the young lady standing behind the bar, she looked kind and it stung when she startled upon sight of Geralt. Jaskier never did that. 

“I need to send an urgent message, is there a sorcerer or a mage in this town?” Geralt asked with a stern expression on his face. 

“Uh… no, sir. But we ‘ave an excellent postal service. Can get ‘ya post sent as quick as a flash.” The woman replied, a soft accent covering her words. She reached behind the bar and revealed parchment and ink, “You write ‘ya letter and I’ll ‘ave it sent out. Take a day at the most.”

“You don’t even know where it’s going.” Geralt was skeptical at the idea of sending such a vital message through the regular post.

“Don’t matter. Not ‘ere. The lad who delivers it has a secret way of getting there instantly. No one knows ‘ow he does it!” She replied, chirpily. 

Geralt hummed before taking the offered parchment and ink. He quickly scribbled down a message and handed it back over, “This needs to be delivered to Yennefer of Vengerberg. It’s urgent.” 

The lady nodded and disappeared into a room behind the bar. She returned shortly after, followed by a short boy who couldn’t be more than 16, “Now, you gotta take this message to Yennefer of Vengerberg. Gentleman says it’s urgent. Ya hear?” She explained to the boy.

The boy looks up at Geralt with a hardened look in his eyes, a look that Geralt is personally familiar with. This boy has known pain and loss and it has made him immune, even to the fear that a Witcher’s presence often conjures. 

“What’s your name?” Geralt asks the boy. 

“Ivon. Yours?” 

Geralt pulls out a few stray coins and presses them into Ivon’s hand, “Geralt. Now take this and go.” 

Ivon nodded in response and ran out of the tavern. The young woman sighs fondly, “He’s a sweet boy, if a little stand-offish. He can’t ‘elp it though, parents died when ‘e was only a young-un.” 

Geralt only grunts and turns away, heading back to the room. 

The knot of panic in his chest loosened slightly knowing that his message had been sent to Yennefer. She may have hated him but she would be able to help solve Jaskier’s problem. 

Geralt mulled over the information that he had gathered about the curse. There wasn’t much to know yet, all he knew was it was powerful dark magic tied to the pendant that Jaskier wore on his wrist. 

It was no shock to Geralt that Jaskier had managed to get himself cursed. The Bard seemed to attract danger, and in return he was attracted  _ to  _ it. Geralt shook his head softly as he remembered all the times Jaskier had wound up in trouble. It was terrifying to Geralt. Jaskier was the only human he had met in his time on the Earth that had been able to keep up with his dangerous life as a Witcher and yet he was still breakable. 

Geralt remembered when the Djinn had cursed Jaskier, he remembered the panic that had taken over him when he saw Jaskier lying unconscious on Yennefer’s bed. 

Jaskier was fragile. He was like a beautiful sculpture made of ice that was placed too close to a fire, beautiful and stronger than most but still destructible. 

Geralt carefully pushed upon the door to their room, eyes immediately falling on the empty bed. For a second Geralt was gripped with panic before his eyes scanned the rest of the room and he saw Jaskier standing by the window. 

“You’re awake.” He said, his voice softer than it had ever been. 

Jaskier turned around and looked at him, eyes wide as if he was shocked to see him, “You’re here?” 

Geralt frowned, “Of course I’m here.”

The Bard seemed so sad as he looked Geralt up and down, “I woke up and you weren’t here and I thought that… I thought you left.” Jaskier let his eyes trail down to look at the floor, his posture slouched and dejected and not holding any of his usual confidence. 

It felt like a punch to the gut to see him like that, “I’m not leaving.” Geralt spoke through gritted teeth, doing everything he could to resist rushing over and pulling the Bard into his arms. 

Jaskier sighed and nodded before pulling on a smile and straightening his posture. And just like that, the sadness that had been so obvious left Jaskier’s appearance completely, as if he was wiping it away,

“So, where were you? And does this place have breakfast because, let me tell you, I am absolutely starving.” He rambled, gesturing wildly with every word.

It almost felt like  _ before _ . It almost felt like everything was normal, and that was almost enough to put a smile on Geralt’s usually stoic face. “I sent a message to Yennefer about your curse.”

The Bard rolled his eyes dramatically and protectively rubbed the bracelet, “I really think you’re overreacting Geralt. It’s just a charm! And, yes, it’s impossible to remove and, yes, I think that someone is following me but how is that different from any other day in my life?” 

“For fuck’s sake, Jaskier. Why didn’t you tell me someone was following you?” Geralt growled.

“Couldn’t really find the time between the yelling, getting drenched and then the late night snuggling.” Jaskier sniped back, words laced with a sharpness that Geralt wasn’t used to receiving from Jaskier.

Geralt grunted and walked over to his belongings, he felt a sudden urge to polish his swords. He heard Jaskier scoff, “Are we gonna talk about anything properly or are you just going to keep acting like a child?” 

“Gods, Bard, when did you get snippy?” Geralt replied, not looking at Jaskier. 

“Perhaps when my best friend told me all bad things were my fault and then  _ left me on a mountain! _ ” Jaskier shouted and then promptly sighed and sat down on the bed, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

The Witcher stood up and slowly walked over to Jaskier, sitting down next to him. Geralt was never very good at apologies, but he knew that Jaskier deserved one, “I’m…” Jaskier looked at him, deep blue eyes staring into Geralt’s yellow ones. Geralt gulped, “Jaskier, I’m-” 

A loud knocking at the door cut him off and with a growl he stood up and strode over, almost ripping the door off as he opened it, “What?” 

His anger quickly turned to shock as he saw Yennefer in the hall, her arms crossed over her chest. 

“Hello Geralt.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope u all enjoyed it!! 
> 
> add me on twitter ! dandeliondisco  
> i’m always up for making new friends


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yennefer, Geralt and Jaskier try to come up with a plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all so much for all the hits and kudos!
> 
> I've messed around with canon a bit here to make it all fit
> 
> slightly shorter chapter today sorry!
> 
> beta read by the lovely @mythasmin - go read her stuff!!

Yennefer of Vengerberg always controlled the room from the moment she stepped in. Her presence was shrouded in power and grace, Jaskier understood why everyone fell for her. In fact, if Jaskier weren’t so ridiculously hung up on a certain Witcher, he would probably want her too.

When Geralt opened the door and revealed her there, for an instant tensed up, the past disdain he had for her rising up before she smiled softly at him and walked over. Yennefer placed her arms around him and pulled Jaskier into a soft hug, which he didn’t think Yennefer would be capable of. Over her back, Jaskier saw Geralt’s confused frown, it was mildly amusing. 

“What trouble have you got yourself into now? You ridiculous Bard.” She said as she pulled out of the hug, her hand still on his arm. 

“In my defense, I was unaware that I was in trouble.” He replied, grinning. 

For some reason, having Yennefer around made Jaskier the most relaxed he’d been in a while. She understood his pain. 

Geralt cleared his throat from across the room, slowly shutting the door, “Thank you for coming, Yen.” He shuffled on his feet, the picture of awkwardness. It was odd sight, to see the Witcher so unsure of himself, and it was almost painful as Jaskier resisted going to comfort him.

“I came for Jaskier.” She spat her words out, angrily, before sighing, “It’s good to see you… both of you.” 

Geralt nodded and stepped closer, gesturing to Jaskier’s wrist, “I sensed dark magic coming off the bracelet. Couldn’t get it off either.” 

The Witch picked up Jaskier’s arm, inspecting the charm. She pulled at it and hummed in acknowledgment. Jaskier didn’t see what she did next but a wave of sharp pain shot down his arm and he called out in shock.

“Fuck! What was that?” He yanked his arm out of her grasp, rubbing his sore wrist. 

As soon as Jaskier had shown signs of pain, Geralt had moved next to the Bard and placed a hand on his shoulder. For once, Jaskier could see through the mask of his face and saw plain concern painted across his harsh features. It made Jaskier’s heart race, the idea that Geralt cared about Jaskier being in pain.

“I was trying to remove it with magic, guess it really doesn’t want to be removed.” Yennefer replied, frowning down at the bracelet. 

Geralt grunted and Jaskier chewed his lip nervously. He really couldn’t remember anything about receiving the bracelet. He just assumed that he had accepted it while drunk and so when he woke up one morning and it was there he just ignored it. Things were starting to get real, if both Geralt  _ and  _ Yennefer were concerned about it then there was definitely something wrong. 

Jaskier felt that familiar feeling of shame begin to cloud his mind. He was always the one to get in trouble, always the idiot who ended up cursed or hurt or lost and nothing had changed. This wouldn’t help Jaskier’s quest to get Geralt to  _ not  _ see him as a blithering idiot. 

“So… What now?” Jaskier asked, tentatively. 

“I think Geralt is right, it’s tracking you. So we need to go somewhere that isn’t trackable.” Yennefer replied and looked up at Geralt, “Ciri will be pleased to see you.” 

“Do you think that’s the best option? Vesemir doesn’t like unwanted guests.” Jaskier was thoroughly confused, who was Ciri? 

“I think it’s our only option.” 

Geralt nodded and moved to pack up their stuff, Jaskier felt himself begin to get agitated. “Hold on! I think you guys are forgetting that it’s  _ my  _ curse and I deserve to know what the fuck is going on!” He sounded petulant, like a child, but it got Yennefer and Geralt to turn to him, “Where are we going? Who’s Ciri?” 

Yennefer gestured to Geralt and the Witcher sighed, “We’re going to Kaer Morhen. Ciri is the child surprise. I found her not long after… after we fought and now she’s being kept safe at Kaer Morhen with Vesemir.” 

Jaskier gaped, “You found her?”

Geralt nodded and Jaskier let out a shocked laugh, “What’s she like?” 

The Witcher shrugged and Yennfer chuckled, “A feisty young thing who always manages to get what she wants.” 

Jaskier laughed, “Well, I wanna meet her. And I’ve always wanted to meet Vesemir, despite how scary he sounds.” 

Yennefer sighed, “Pack your things and meet me outside, I’ll portal us as close as we can get.” With a flourish, she turned and walked out of the room. 

The lack of Yennefer’s dramatic presence left a tension in the air where Geralt and Jaskier stood in silence next to each other. It was clear neither of them wanted to talk about the previous night. Jaskier cleared his throat and began to pack up his belongings, most of which were damaged from the rain before. 

A pained noise sounded from Jaskier as he saw the sodden sheets of music, falling apart and ink running. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Geralt perk up, “How’s your wrist?” Geralt’s gruff voice broke through the silence, startling Jaskier. 

“Hm? Oh,” Jaskier rubbed his wrist and pouted, “A little sore but nothing terrible. As long as I can still play that’s all that matters to me.” 

Geralt chuckled at that, shaking his head and silence fell again. It was an awkward silence, a silence that made Jaskier twitchy. He had always hated silence, that’s why he was so damn loud all of the time.

“So..You found her then? Must have been a big moment.” Jaskier would be lying if he said he wasn’t genuinely intrigued about hearing Geralt’s tale about finding the Child Surprise. It would make a wonderful ballad, he was sure, but it probably wasn’t the time to find out all the fantastical details.

“Yes. She hugged me.” Geralt replied, still seeming awkward (which Jaskier could  _ not _ get used to).

Jaskier laughed, “Oh I wish I’d seen that.” He looked at Geralt with a grin and Jaskier watched as his awkwardness faded into soft fondness, 

“She’s a lovely kid. Had way too much hurt for a lifetime.” Geralt chuckled to himself, “She’d love to meet you, Gods know she asks a lot.” 

The Bard felt his heart warm at the almost paternal display, and if Ciri was asking about him that probably meant Geralt talked about him, “She knows about me?” At his question, Geralt looked up and looked right into his eyes. The fondness didn’t fade when he looked at Jaskier and Jaskier had to fight himself to not cross the room and kiss Geralt right then and there. 

“Of course she does.” 

There was a moment again, a heavy moment. Jaskier and Geralt stared at each other and Jaskier  _ knew _ that the Witcher could hear how fast his heart was beating. They had, at some point, stepped closer to each other, Jaskier had to tilt his head up to look Geralt in the eye. He could feel Geralt’s breath on his face. 

Before he backed out, Jaskier closed his eyes and leant closer and closer until- 

“Are you two ready?” Yennefer’s voice startled Jaskier and both he and Geralt jumped away from each other, hearts pounding. 

Yennefer rounded the corner and peered into the room, looking at them both skeptically, “Why do you look so weird? Hurry up.” And then she was gone again. 

Jaskier heard Geralt clear his throat and finish packing everything. Jaskier stood there and squeezed his eyes shut. What would have happened if Yennefer didn’t interrupt? He was going to kiss Geralt, and then it would all be over. 

He knew that if their lips ever happened to touch that all anger and resent would melt away but Jaskier didn’t want that. He didn’t want to just be another notch in Geralt’s belt, and he didn’t want Geralt to be that for him either. 

With a deep breath, Jaskier picked up his things and slung his lute over his shoulders before walking out of the room, not looking back at Geralt. 

When he reached Yennefer she was already waiting for them. “Good, let’s do this.”

Jaskier grimaced as she opened a portal, he  _ hated  _ portals. Geralt walked through with Roach and his things, disappearing into the powerful swirl of magic. 

The Bard sniffed, rolled his shoulders and stepped through. It was time to go to Kaer Morhen. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier, Yennefer and Geralt reach Kaer Morhen. Introductions occur and more about the curse is revealed. Is there something both of them are missing?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was really hard to write so sorry that it took a while! promise the next chapter will be more interesting. 
> 
> hope you enjoy!
> 
> also thank you for 100 kudos and over 1000 hits!!

Kaer Morhen was magnificent. Geralt knew that it was and despite having spent most of his life there he still managed to feel in awe every time he went back. 

He shook his head as he stepped out of the portal, shaking the slight nausea that portals always brought. Next to him, Roach snorted. Technically horses couldn’t go through portals but Roach had seemed to develop an immunity to the nauseating magic, she could pass through better than Geralt could. 

The Witcher took in a deep breath and closed his eyes. It was weird, Kaer Morhen reminded him of the Trials and pain beyond belief, but it also reminded him of childhood adventures and nights under the stars. Kaer Morhen was where Geralt became who he was. It was home. 

“Wow.” He heard Jaskier gasp in awe at the sight of Kaer Morhen. They had portalled to just outside, the fortress towering over them from where it was buried in the mountain. 

“I know.” Geralt replied, smiling softly. It was a beautiful place and Geralt knew Jaskier would love it. 

Yennefer walked past the two of them, her shoulder brushing against Geralt’s, “Come on, let’s get inside.” 

It was a bit of a trek to the main entrance of the fortress and Jaskier complained the whole way. Geralt would be lying if he said he wasn’t secretly pleased to hear the Bard’s complaints again. He could almost pretend that everything was normal.

When they arrived at the large doors, Jaskier’s chattering had gotten frantic. The Bard was bursting with nervous energy. Geralt hadn’t thought about how Jaskier must have been feeling. Everything was happening very fast, and the Bard had always wanted to meet Vesemir and Geralt’s brothers. 

Geralt reached a hand out to Jaskier, resting it on his shoulder before giving it a reassuring squeeze. Jaskier instantly fell silent and looked up at Geralt with wide, emotion filled eyes. 

Yennefer groaned and rolled her eyes, once again pushing past the two of them to knock loudly on the door, “Honestly, I don’t know how the pair of you get anything done with all your staring.” She muttered under her breath. 

The implications of her words made Geralt flush and retract his hand, quickly looking away from Jaskier. Geralt was getting sloppy at hiding his feelings, and that couldn’t happen around the other Witchers. 

Geralt needed to keep a level head whilst dealing with this. He couldn’t afford to let his emotions get in the way of Jaskier’s safety. If he had to pretend to hate Jaskier to keep him safe then so be it. 

The doors groaned and creaked as they were pulled open, revealing a tired looking Vesemir. He stood with his arms crossed over his chest and Geralt heard Jaskier’s heart rate spike. It was hard not to comfort the Bard. 

“Vesemir.” Geralt said, stepping forward to shake the older Witcher’s hand. 

“This is a surprise,” He replied, he glanced at Jaskier, “And you brought a guest.” 

With that, Jaskier stepped forward and extended a hand, “Julian Alfred Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove. Everyone calls me Jaskier.” Geralt could see the anxiety in his smile and he knew that Vesemir probably could too. 

Vesemir nodded at Jaskier, taking his hand and shaking it, “Vesemir. Pleasure to finally meet you. I’ve heard many stories about you.” 

Jaskier lit up at that, his nervous smile spreading into a wide, genuine one, “You have?” 

Vesemir didn’t respond to that, he turned to Yennefer and smiled at her, “Yennefer, good to see you again. Ciri has been asking after you.” 

Geralt saw Jaskier purse his lips and frown as Vesemir and Yennefer talked. He took a few moments to watch the Bard, he was still sporting the messy, unshaven look that had no doubt been caused by Geralt’s harsh words. Jaskier did seem brighter though, compared to two days ago when he had found the Bard, the spark had returned to his eyes and his smile. 

Jaskier turned and caught Geralt staring at him, his frown melting away to an expression that Geralt couldn’t decipher. Geralt held his gaze, and it happened again, a heavy pause as the two of them stared at each other. The whole world fell away and it was just the two of them. 

But then Jaskier yelped in pain and doubled over, clutching his hand. Geralt dashed to his side, gripping his shoulders, “Jaskier? What is it?” 

“It’s my arm.” Jaskier said through gritted teeth, “The damn charm.” 

Vesemir hummed in acknowledgment, “I’m assuming this is why you’re here.” 

“He’s been cursed, we think he’s being tracked. Clearly whoever cursed him isn’t pleased we brought him here.” Yennefer responded. 

Jaskier was still groaning and Geralt was silent as he attempted to comfort the Bard. This was bad news. 

“Which means this curse is for more than being tracked. Get him inside.” Vesemir said stoically. 

Geralt nodded and began to help Jaskier in, almost as soon as they crossed the threshold into Kaer Morhen and past the barriers Jaskier’s pain seemed to disappear as he stood up straight. 

“I think it’s ok now.” Jaskier said, his voice slightly shaky. It took them both a few seconds to realise they were gripping each other and they both jumped away from each other. 

Geralt could see the flush on Jaskier’s pale cheeks. Adrenaline was rushing through his whole body. If the charm had the power to cause pain like that then there was no telling what else it could do. 

The doors shut behind them with a bang, the courtyard echoing the sound around. It was then that Geralt saw a blonde head poke out from a door across the courtyard. Before he had time to process it, Ciri was sprinting across the courtyard and jumping into Geralt’s arms. 

He caught her with a chuckle and hugged her tight. Geralt had missed Ciri, missed her mischief and sass and ridiculously good hugs. When Geralt had first found Ciri, alone in the woods, he was cold and bitter, still raw from his fight with Jaskier. She managed to pry open the chest that held his emotions and allowed him to finally  _ feel _ them. Of course, this meant she knew practically everything about Jaskier. In return, Geralt had comforted her and been the Father figure she needed. They had grown close and fond of each other over the short month that they had been with each other, but destiny may have played a hand in that. 

Geralt loved Ciri like she was his daughter, he couldn’t imagine living in a world where he didn’t know her. Maybe Jaskier would be able to see that he’d changed. 

“You’re back!” She yelled in his ear, arms tightly wrapped around his shoulders. 

“Couldn’t leave you alone with Vesemir for too long.” He replied, chuckling. Ciri frowned and Geralt released her from the hug. Her hands instantly went to her waist, pouting. 

“You think I can’t handle myself?” There was a layer of challenge to her words, a fire that always made Geralt grin. Ciri could always handle herself. 

“Actually, I was more worried for Vesemir. You’re a handful.” Geralt replied with a wide grin. 

The blonde just stuck her tongue out at Geralt which caused Jaskier to chuckle from where he was standing next to Geralt. This brought his presence to Ciri’s attention and she looked at him with wide eyes. 

“You’re Dandelion!” She was looking at Jaskier like he was royalty, and Geralt knew that if it weren’t for the circumstance then he would  _ bask _ in that attention. Geralt almost cursed out loud when Ciri used that name. It was a nickname that Geralt had often used for Jaskier, but only in Jaskier’s presence.

Jaskier spluttered in surprise, looking at Geralt who looked away, embarrassed. “Is that what he said my name was?” 

“Nope! But he called you Dandelion a lot so I just assumed you liked that name the most. I’m Cirilla, everyone calls me Ciri.” Ciri stuck her hand out to Jaskier, a cheeky smile spread across her face. She glanced at Geralt and Geralt could see the mischievous twinkle in her eyes. She knew  _ exactly  _ what she had done. 

Geralt shook his head at her, the little shit. Jaskier took her hand and shook it, after a moment of shocked staring. He had snapped back into his perky attitude, seemingly realising that he needed to make a good impression. 

“Lovely to finally meet you, Ciri. I’m Jaskier, as you already seem to know.” The Bard responded. Ciri giggled and ran off to hug Yennefer, leaving Geralt and Jaskier standing next to each other. 

The Witcher awkwardly scratched the back of his next, an unfamiliar feeling of embarrassment causing his face to flush. “Sorry about that. She’s… well I’m sure you can imagine.” 

Jaskier laughed, placing a hand on Geralt’s arm, which Geralt  _ definitely  _ didn’t lean into, “Don’t worry, she’s lovely. It’s nice to see you two together. I guess this is one of my fuck ups that paid off.” He laughed shortly and Geralt looked at Jaskier, guilt replacing the embarrassment. 

“Jaskier-” He started but Jaskier cut him off by raising a hand. 

“Don’t. I don’t want to fight or to talk about it now. I didn’t mean to bring it up.” Jaskier’s words were heavy and full of an emotion that made Geralt want to scoop the Bard up into his arms and run into the sunset, but that wasn’t possible or sensible. 

Why was he thinking like that so much recently? 

Geralt cleared his throat and nodded, stepping away from Jaskier. “Let’s go inside.” He called to the other three who were standing a bit away from them. Geralt turned and began to walk across the courtyard, but it was impossible for him to not turn back and wait for Jaskier. 

Jaskier clearly was also feeling a need to be near Geralt, as when the Witcher turned to wait for him, Jaskier was already there at his side. A warmth filled Geralt’s chest and he found himself reaching for Jaskier’s hand.    
  


As soon as he realised what he was doing, he pulled his hand back and looked away. Geralt shook his head, he was just worried about Jaskier. That was all. Nothing else. 

He stepped away from Jaskier and ignored the instant ache in his chest. 

He was just worried. Nothing else. Right? 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tensions rise between Geralt and Jaskier as they stay at Kaer Morhen, more about their feelings are revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope yall are ready for some aNgst 
> 
> im a sucker for angst i apologise 
> 
> also thank you for 1500 hits!!  
> you can find me on twitter @/dandeliondisco

Jaskier was never very good at holding grudges, the only person he ever held a ‘grudge’ against was Valdo Marx and that was more of a rivalry than a grudge. So it was hard for Jaskier to stay angry at Geralt, especially after seeing him with Ciri. 

The lion cub seemed to bring out a softness in Geralt that made Jaskier _weak_ and watching him play with and comfort the girl made it downright impossible for Jaskier to ignore his feelings. 

It was nerve wracking being at Kaer Morhen, it had only been two days since they arrived and Jaskier had barely spoken to Geralt. Not for lack of trying, but the Witcher seemed adamant to keep his distance. Jaskier kept forgetting that if it weren’t for the curse, Geralt wouldn’t be around the Bard. Despite Jaskier being the one who was angry at Geralt, it was Geralt who didn’t want him around in the first place. 

The realisation stung him, but he was used to rejection when it came to Geralt. It almost helped, having Yennefer around, she understood what it was like. But Jaskier would be lying if he wasn’t skeptical of the mage, and slightly jealous. 

Jaskier huffed as he watched Geralt and Yennefer from across the room, they were whispering to each other as if they had never fallen out. It was hard to watch and so he was grateful when Ciri tugged at his sleeve. 

“Are you going to sing us a song? Geralt says you’re famous for your songs.” Cirilla looked up at Jaskier with pleading eyes and Jaskier could understand how she had Geralt wrapped around her little finger, it was impossible to say no to her. 

Her question piqued everyone’s interest and, out of the corner of his eye, Jaskier saw Geralt and Yennefer stop talking to watch the Bard’s response. 

“Maybe later, Cirilla, I’ve not warmed up.” Jaskier replied, clearing his throat and feeling his face flush at all the attention. Normally he loved the attention, but recently it felt like he was constantly under Geralt’s scrutiny and Jaskier’s current repertoire was undeniably all about the white-haired Witcher. 

Ciri pouted and Jaskier felt a tug at his heart, how did anyone say no to her? “I’ll give you a private concert later.” And with that she beamed and ran off. 

Vesemir was off in the labs, figuring out as much about Jaskier’s curse as he could. Jaskier hadn’t seen much of the older Witcher, which he was slightly glad about, and whenever they did cross paths there were very few words spoken. 

“Have you heard anything from Lambert and Eskel?” Jaskier heard Yennefer ask. Geralt grunted in response and mumbled something Jaskier couldn’t hear. 

Of course Yennefer had met Geralt’s brothers before, she and Geralt were practically raising a child together. Not that Jaskier was bitter, he wasn’t. Geralt can raise a child with whoever he wants. 

Jaskier sighed and stood up, walking out of the room before he had to watch anything else between Yennefer and Geralt. He didn’t know why he was so bothered, he _knew_ that Yennefer no longer cared for Geralt in that way, but something was making every cell in Jaskier’s body need to be near Geralt and it to just be the two of them. 

It was probably because he was scared, he was cursed and alone and it was scary. Geralt never was very good at comforting Jaskier, but he would hold him and just his _presence_ was enough to calm Jaskier. So it was probably the lack of those comforting motions that was sending Jaskier mad. 

The Bard wandered through the long corridors of Kaer Morhen, his shoes clacking against the cobblestone floor. Part of him wished that he had never met the Witcher, an even bigger part wished that Geralt had never met Yennefer. If Jaskier had never fucked around with the damn Djinn then everything would be normal. But that didn’t change anything, it didn’t change that Jaskier was in love with someone who didn’t love him back. 

“Jaskier.” Geralt’s voice echoed down the corridor and Jaskier turned in shock to see Geralt jogging to catch up with him, “Where are you going?” The Witcher asked as he stood in front of Jaskier, towering over him. 

“For a walk, why are you asking?” There was a bite to his words as a wave of anger ran through him, why did Geralt ignore Jaskier when he was near him but question when he wanted to be alone? 

Geralt had the decency to look shocked before his expression shifted into something akin to shame, but then it was gone and the stoic look was once again placed on Geralt’s powerful features. 

“Right. Well, stay inside Kaer Morhen where you’re protected.” 

Jaskier sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, so tired of the tension between them, “Contrary to popular belief, Geralt, I’m not actually a moron.” 

“Right.” There was a tense pause and Jaskier looked up at Geralt. 

“What happens when we remove the curse? Are you just going to send me on my way again?” Jaskier asked, emotion clouding his voice. 

Geralt stared at him, yellow eyes piercing into his own. Slowly, as if to avoid startling him, Geralt placed a hand on Jaskier’s cheek. “I don’t think I could stomach sending you away.” 

Jaskier let his eyes flutter closed, “You didn’t seem to have any trouble two months ago.” His voice was barely a whisper as he felt Geralt’s breath on his face. 

They were standing impossibly close and when Jaskier opened his eyes he could see how dilated Geralt’s golden eyes were. He felt his breath catch in his throat and his heart beat faster with every passing second. 

Geralt’s eyes darted to his lips and he gasped as Geralt softly ran his thumb along Jaskier’s bottom lip. Warmth and adrenaline was racing through Jaskier’s body, the proximity to Geralt making it hard for him to think straight.

“Losing you was the biggest mistake of my life.” Geralt whispered and Jaskier couldn’t take it anymore. 

He pushed himself up onto his tiptoes and pressed his lips against Geralt’s. Instantly the Witcher was kissing back, his hands tangled in Jaskier’s hair. 

They kissed with a ferocity that stole Jaskier’s oxygen. He had imagined this moment so much, and it was so much better than he ever pictured. 

Geralt pushed Jaskier against the wall and Jaskier gasped at the feel of the cold stone against his back. Geralt took that opportunity to lick into Jaskier’s mouth, growling deeply. Jaskier whined in response, his knees going weak. 

And then, without warning, Geralt pulled away. He stared at Jaskier with wide eyes, fear clear on his face. Jaskier felt all the warmth leave his body and he stepped towards Geralt, his stomach dropping when the Witcher stepped back. 

“Geralt-” 

“I can’t. I can’t.” Geralt’s voice broke with the words before he turned around, walking away from Jaskier. 

Jaskier could _hear_ his heart breaking and a strangled noise ripped itself out of his throat. He slid down the wall and landed on the cold floor, his whole body shaking. Tears filled his vision and dripped accusingly down his face and landed on his lips, a reminder of where Geralt’s own lips had just been. 

Jaskier had fucked up many times before, but this was the only one that mattered. His sobs echoed through the hallway and Jaskier pressed a hand to his mouth to stifle them. 

He sat there for a while, crying softly, before eventually his tears stopped and his heart stopped pounding. Jaskier cleared his throat and stood up, dusting off his clothes before heading in the direction of his room. 

With every step, Jaskier’s mind replayed the kiss. Geralt had kissed back. Geralt had _enthusiastically_ kissed back. So why did he pull away? Maybe he enjoyed the kissing but then remembered it was Jaskier.

All Jaskier knew was that it was the best kiss of his life and the worst rejection. 

“Bard.” Jaskier was snapped out of his thoughts by Yennefer calling his name. He was _so close_ to getting to his room. 

“Not now, Yennefer.” He replied, voice breaking. 

He saw Yennefer’s steps falter and a frown fall on her face, “What’s wrong?” 

Jaskier laughed darkly, “What’s wrong? What’s fucking wrong? I’ve been in love with Geralt since I fucking met him. And then he met _you_ and everything changed. He blames me for _everything_ because of you. And now I’m cursed and he cares but then he doesn’t. And he fucking _kissed me_ and then walked away. So Yennefer, you tell me, what the fuck is wrong?” 

His outburst had caused tears to start falling again, Yennefer was staring at him with a pitiful expression, which only made him feel worse. Jaskier didn’t want her pity. 

To Jaskier’s surprise, Yennefer stepped forward and pulled Jaskier into a tight hug. The scent of lilac and gooseberries filling his nose. He wrapped his arms around her and sobbed as she stroked his hair. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I did that to you, I’m sorry that Geralt is so dimwitted that he can’t see your feelings. I’m sorry that you’re cursed.” 

She pulled back and cupped his face in her hands, Jaskier forced himself not to think of how Geralt did that just moments ago, “It will be ok. I promise you. Now go get cleaned up, we have news.” 

Jaskier nodded and pulled away, soft sobs still making his shoulders shake as he pushed open the door to his room. 

As he sat down on his bed and rested his head in his hands, he could only think of one thing. 

Geralt kissed him back.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt considers his actions and their consequences. More about the curse is revealed.   
> Maybe things aren't all terrible for Geralt and Jaskier?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for taking so long with this chapter!  
> I've had absolutely no motivation lately. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy and thank you for reading !

Geralt was an asshole. He knew it. He could see the tear stains on Jaskier’s face as he and Yennefer walked into the large hall. The purple eyed Mage glared at him with a piercing look of disappointment and resentment and Geralt felt shame bubble up in his chest. With a sharp gasp, Geralt looked away from the pair of them and instead looked at Vesemir from where he stood by one of the main doors. 

“Thank you for joining us.” The older Witcher said to Yennefer and Jaskier. Geralt and Vesemir had only been there for a few minutes, exchanging a few tense words before the Mage and the Bard had arrived.

Geralt wasn’t entirely sure how Vesemir felt about having Jaskier at Kaer Morhen, he had only just gotten used to having Yennefer visit regularly. Vesemir wasn’t a particularly social man, even for Witcher’s, so Geralt knew he was probably struggling with the loud Bard.

He huffed to himself as his thoughts drifted to Jaskier again, to the kiss. He could still feel the ghost of Jaskier’s lips against his own, his pleasured gasps still echoed in Geralt’s mind. He was such an idiot. He shouldn’t have led Jaskier on like that, he couldn’t afford to let his feelings for the Bard overtake his common sense. 

But a small part of him was ecstatic. Jaskier had initiated the kiss, he had  _ wanted  _ Geralt. So that very small part of Geralt, the small part that  _ knew  _ how he felt about the Bard, was jumping with glee at the acceptance from Jaskier. 

The rest of him was heavy with regret, fear and exhaustion. He was tired of the tension between them, so tired of having to fight off his feelings for Jaskier. 

“I’ve discovered some information about the charm and its effects. There is still a lot to learn and figure out but I’ve made some progress.” Vesemir’s voice pulled Geralt from his thoughts and he looked away from Jaskier (he hadn’t even realised he was looking at the Bard again) to look at Vesemir. 

After checking he had everyone’s attention, he continued, “The curse is definitely being used to track Jaskier. So it’s good that you brought him here. But it also seems there are some underlying mental and emotional effects.”  _ That  _ got Geralt’s attention and a frown fell across his face. 

“What do you mean by that?” Geralt’s voice was a low, threatening growl and out of the corner of his eye he saw Jaskier shuffle uncomfortably on his feet. 

Vesemir sighed and glanced at Yennefer and Jaskier, “I’m not sure, nothing too powerful but it does seem something could be affecting you on a deeper level than just tracking.” 

The paralysing fear ran through Geralt again. Something on a deeper level. What if he was dying? He heard Jaskier let out a fearful squeak at Vesemir’s words and Geralt decided he had heard enough. 

With a grunt that had more emotion in it than he intended, Geralt turned away from Vesemir. He walked over to the fireplace and rested his hand on the cold stone. Behind him, he heard Vesemir leave and he faint whispers of Yennefer and Jaskier talking. 

If he wanted to he could probably eavesdrop but his mind was too busy racing with ideas of how to save Jaskier. This was all too much. The curse. Jaskier. The kiss. Geralt wasn’t sure how much more he could take. 

“Geralt.” Jaskier said his name so softly it hurt Geralt’s heart. No one should sound that sad. 

Geralt managed to turn to look at Jaskier, feeling the heavy pit in his stomach at the sadness in Jaskier’s eyes that almost seemed chronic. 

“Can we talk?” He asked, his nerves clear in the way his voice wobbled. It seemed that Yennefer had left the room, she probably had something to do with Jaskier talking to him. 

Clearing his throat, Geralt nodded before fully turning to face Jaskier, arms folded. Jaskier looked nervous, Geralt would even go as far to say scared but that would be too much for the Witcher. 

“I… um… I wanted to apologise. For- for kissing you.” Jaskier picked at his fingers as he spoke, “I don’t wanna fight anymore, I don’t wanna be angry at you anymore.” He looked up at Geralt, his blue eyes shining with tears, “I miss you.” 

For a moment there was silence. Jaskier had actually  _ apologised  _ to Geralt for one of the most mind blowing kisses he had ever experienced. If anyone needed to apologise then it was Geralt. He couldn’t find his words. Geralt of Rivia, the White Wolf, the Butcher of Blaviken was rendered speechless by a Bard. 

He didn’t want to fight anymore either. He didn’t want to hide anymore. 

He didn’t want to hold back anymore. 

“Gera-” Jaskier was interrupted by Geralt leaning down and pressing his lips to Jaskier’s. A soft, ghost of a kiss that caused Jaskier to gasp in shock. Geralt mistook the gasp for horror or disgust and began to pull away but before he could fully detach their lips, Jaskier grabbed his shirt and pulled him back into the kiss.

The kiss was slower than their first, mouths moving together and hands softly roaming each other’s bodies. Geralt moaned quietly against Jaskier’s lips, holding the Bard tightly against him. He was filled with a warm, powerful emotion that he couldn’t label. All he knew was he was happy, Jaskier was in his arms and kissing with so much love- 

Oh. 

_ Oh. _

That’s what the emotion was. 

Geralt was in love with Jaskier. 

The realisation was terrifying and a dizzying rush of urgency ran through Geralt as he proceeded to push Jaskier against the wall next to the fireplace. Jaskier gasped and Geralt groaned as the kiss turned more passionate and ferocious. 

Jaskier pulled back, placing his hands on Geralt’s biceps, “Wait, Geralt.” He was out of breath, his lips swollen and his pupils blown wide. The sight did absolutely nothing to qualm Geralt’s desire and his dick twitched in his pants. 

The Witcher leant back in to steal another kiss but Jaskier placed his hand over Geralt’s mouth, stopping him. “Geralt, what does this mean?” Jaskier's face was painted with hope and fondness, possibly a little arousal. 

His question caught Geralt off guard. What did it mean? Geralt wasn’t ready to accept how deep his feelings went, but he didn’t want to pretend they weren’t there all together. Geralt sighed and leant forward until his head was resting on Jaskier’s shoulder, face in the crook of his neck. 

Geralt took a moment to breathe in Jaskier’s scent, the familiar smell that sent waves of calm and lo- fondness through Geralt. 

“I don’t want to pretend anymore.” He whispered, lips ghosting Jaskier’s neck. 

Jaskier’s breath caught in his throat and Geralt heard his heart beat faster. A soft hand landed on the back of Geralt’s head, lightly stroking his hair and Geralt let out a melancholy sigh. 

“Ok.” Jaskier replied after a few minutes, his voice just as quiet as Geralt’s. 

They stood there for a while, cradling each other in their arms as if they were the most important things to each other. Maybe they were.

Geralt knew it didn’t change anything, he knew he had a lot to make up for. But he was content in Jaskier’s arms. The ghost of their kiss still lingering on his lips. 

“Jask- What are you two doing?” Ciri skipped into the room, her question litled with the smugness in her voice. 

Geralt groaned and pulled away from Jaskier, he was never gonna live that down now. Ciri had a smug, knowing smile on her face that was far too mature for her in Geralt’s opinion. 

“What do you want, Ciri?” Geralt asked in return, exasperated. 

She giggled and folded her arms, “I was going to ask Jaskier if he wanted to come and watch me train, he could write some songs. But I can leave you two be if you need.” To Geralt’s absolute horror, she winked at the end of her sentence. 

If Witcher’s could blush, Geralt was sure his face would’ve been bright red in that moment. Luckily, Jaskier stepped forward to save Geralt from replying. 

“I would love to, I’ll grab my lute and be right out. You go ahead.” He replied, arm brushing Geralt’s. 

Ciri nodded and smirked at the two of them before dashing out. Geralt sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, apparently to Jaskier’s amusement as the Bard laughed at the action. 

“Oh c’mon, could’ve been worse.” He offered, pulling Geralt’s hand away and looking deep into his eyes. 

For a moment, Geralt was stunned by the tender look in his eyes, “She caught me  _ snuggling _ , Jaskier. Witcher’s don’t snuggle.” He responded. 

Jaskier laughed, warmly, “Apparently you do. I should go get my lute. Will I see you out there?” 

Geralt nodded and frowned as he noticed Jaskier pause, suddenly awkward again. Jaskier’s eyes kept jumping to his lips and Geralt smirked as he realised the problem. 

Slowly, Geralt cupped Jaskier’s face and leant down, placing a soft kiss to the edge of Jaskier’s lips. When he pulled away, the Bard looked dazed. 

“I’ll see you out there.” He said, lowly. 

Jaskier shook his head and smiled sheepishly, began to walk away, “Right, yes. See you out there.” And then he was gone. 

Geralt smiled at the spot Jaskier just was. Maybe everything would be ok. 


End file.
